


Slowly, And Then All At Once

by melanie1982



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Feels, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Porn, Smut, consideryourselfwarned, fluff?, umm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 16:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9912212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanie1982/pseuds/melanie1982
Summary: Inspired by a butchered John Green quotation.Full disclosure: I don't like the show. I do, however, love the characters, and I ship Destiel.I own nothing. I make no money from this work of fiction.For the record, I didn't realize until AFTER posting this that there are several SPN fan-fics with the same title! Great minds think alike? Ha ha





	

Dean had cared for a few women over the years. I mean, they were human; he cared about their well-being in a general, philanthropic sort of way. They had their.. charms, and some of them even had the brains to put together half of a decent conversation. Still, he wouldn't say he'd ever truly loved any of them. He supposed, as the latter half of his twenties loomed on the horizon and threatened to become a blip in the rearview mirror, that if love had been destined to happen for him, it would have happened by now.

Dean had to make peace with that. 

It made sense; perhaps he was simply wired differently - something in his DNA, or the product of his upbringing? (Probably a combination of both). The hunter's life was dangerous, one might even say damaging, on so many levels, and Dean couldn't imagine subjecting a woman to it for the long term. The thought of bringing a *child* into his type of life was so far beyond the scope of his moral compass, it was practically on another planet. Always a target. Always a liability. Too many risks all around. Anything he loved became tainted; anything he needed would be under constant threat of being taken from him. His entire life had taught him that lesson, drumming it into him over and over.

No. Dean Winchester was not built for that sort of love.

And yet.

It started out as the smallest, most inconsequential of things. Dean took a realist's view of humanity, knowing that people were capable of acts of great compassion and self-sacrifice, but equally capable of committing terrible violence and depravity. Castiel, being of another species, a higher rank than humans, hadn't a malicious bone in his body. Even so, it never ceased to amaze Dean how Castiel could zero in on the trivial while missing the bigger picture, doing the sweetest, most off-the-wall things. If Cas had been human, Dean would've suggested that his friend was some sort of savant, but..

The first time Dean felt something he couldn't name was when Castiel had brought him coffee. Coffee after a bender was Dean's nectar of the gods, but it wasn't just the fact that Cas had brought it to him when he needed it most. It was the fact that Castiel had *made* the coffee, AND managed to make it just the way Dean liked it. Once the hangover was less raging and throbby, Dean had thought to wonder whether Castiel had made coffee for Sam. He had, but belatedly, after much grumbling from the non-favorite, and that struck Dean as.. odd. Focusing on one thing - 'make Dean coffee' - while missing the bigger picture of making some for Sam, too. 

Dean would find his clothes folded on random occasions, or a case of beer neither brother could account for. It wasn't just small acts of domestic drudgery, though; there was a way Cas carried himself in Dean's presence, almost unsure of his worth. There were Cas' unintentionally funny or profound non sequitirs, and the way he made the mundane aspects of mortal existence sound so lofty, so elegant. A poetic turn of phrase; a well-placed silence; the way he always seemed to gravitate to any source of natural light, harmonizing with it somehow. Castiel had a photographer's knack for positioning himself in the light just so, and Dean found himself wondering how Castiel would fare in a job like that - documenting the beauty of the earth plane and its inhabitants. Cas never seemed posed; he simply.. belonged wherever he was. Filled the space in a unique way. Dean began to feel disquieted by how palpable Cas' absences had become. Since when had the air around Dean felt so empty and blah?

Of all the souls in the universe, over the course of humanity's existence, Castiel had zeroed in on Dean. That was a blessing and a burden, and lately, Dean had been struggling to decide which unsettled him more.

Their latest job had dragged on for over a week. The three of them had agreed to share a motel room, firstly for safety reasons, and secondly for financial ones. Maybe it was the phase of the moon, or the feeling of summer creeping up from the Bayou like kudzu vines and taking hold of Dean's libido, but the man was getting desperate for some .. relief. The walls were thin, the bathroom door's lock was iffy at best, and taking matters into his own hands in a shared space was out of the question. 

There was only one place for Dean to go, one home away from home, no matter where he went.

Baby.

Baby understood. She was a lady, but she loved her man, and knew he had needs. He turned to her in the middle of the night, mumbling some lame "going for a drive" excuse as he snuck his tablet under his jacket. Sam smirked, probably guessing what was up - I mean, it was too hot for the jacket, to start with - but said nothing. Dean tried not to register the pain in Cas' eyes as he gently but firmly rebuffed the offer of company.

Baby wound her way to a back-road, settling beneath the trees. It looked like a perfect place for bygone lovers to arrange a tryst - near the water, with grass and moss as their verdant bed and the willows as their canopy. Dean hoped he could get signal out here, firing up the tablet in an attempt to keep his increasingly strange, cryptic fantasies at bay.

It took longer each time, going into more and more extreme .. tastes, and Dean hated himself for it. One more reason not to have a relationship, he told himself; nobody would ever, should ever, put up with his freaky side. One video clip turned into two, Dean getting bored halfway through that one and searching for another. It was difficult, typing in the search-bar with one hand, but Dean didn't dare let go of his dick, needing this to be done, needing to get back and get some shut-eye. The woman was pretty, a little on the skinny side, but Dean found his eyes sliding back towards the male performer. Something about his build, the way his hair framed his face; he looked like - 

Oh, God. 

Dean groaned, his cock brutally hard, staring up at him with a suitably red face. This was not happening.

Dean had to resist the urge to toss the tablet into the water. The windows were starting to steam up, the seat now slick with a sheen of sweat. 

"Fuck. Just please.. let me.. "

He tried to shield the man from view, but the videographer kept changing the angle of the shot, and it made Dean a little seasick. That's something Cas would do, he thought idly; he'd want to document thoroughly, from different sides, different lighting - 

Another groan. Dean's balls were close against his body now, but he couldn't take it home. He leaned his head back, and another smell wafted into his consciousness. Ozone, and a hint of something distinctly Cas. Maybe he'd left something of his in the car. Dean's mind wandered, wondering what it could be. A sock? A t shirt? He imagined picking it up, sniffing it - 

"Fuck.."

Dean was panting, hips hitching forward into his hand. The tablet slid from its position, and Dean heard the man's moans, fantasizing how Cas would sound, what he would say, what noises Dean could elicit from him.

Dean realized where the scent was coming from. There was a tuft of molted feathers stuck between the seats, and his free hand reached for them, stroking their softness, his mind already daring to go there, even as his conscience screamed at him that this was wrong and this was blasphemous and this was *fucked up* - 

Dean traced one feather along his jawline, dipping down against his neck. It was a barely-there, whisper sort of sensation, like breath on flesh, but in his heightened state, it didn't take much to make him edge closer.

The feather passed over the curve of his shoulder, bypassing his chest and stomach which were still covered by his clothing. With tight, trembling fingers, Dean ran the feather along his shaft, towards the base, letting it brush the balls before dragging it back up to the tip which was busily pistoning in and out of sight within his clenched fist -

Dean came with a groan, soiling the feather, his breath stuttering from his swollen lips in a litany of "Jesus, Cas, fuck.. yeah.. Cas.."

He couldn't help himself. When he could finally prise open his eyelids, Dean noted with relief (and a twinge of disappointment) that Cas had not materialized. 

Dean needed to clean up and destroy the evidence. He needed to be more careful with his online viewing choices in future. And he needed to get his shit together before going back to the motel.

"Baby.. I am so screwed." He wasn't sure whether he'd thought it or said it aloud; his nerves were still on fire, Dean's head spinning as he began the slow drive back.

Slowly. That's how it had happened, he realized with a swallow. Dean hadn't seen it sneaking up behind him - not a monster or a demon, but an angel. Not in the shadows, but in the light, waiting to be seen. Waiting to be loved.

Dean had his intellectual moments, and a chopped-up John Green line from a long-ago Eng Lit class surfaced in the fog of his thoughts:

"I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once." 

Dean had never considered the possibility of making love to one's self as he had just done. Then again, he'd never let himself consider falling in love with a male, much less an angel.

He wasn't sure what to do next, or how Cas and Sam - oh, fuck, SAMMY! - would react.

Dean did know, however, that he'd never look at feathers the same way again.


End file.
